Running in Circles
by SoulMalady
Summary: Sam and Dean got their hands on their stalker. Castiel isn't too impressed though.
1. Chapter 1

It was past midnight, so only streetlights shone, casing shadows that played tricks on the pavement. A lone, shuffling figure in the long black coat didn't notice. He was stooped slightly, hands stuffed into his pockets for some warmth against the brisk breeze and head ducked down behind his collar, following his feet. He seemed in no hurry to get where he was going, lost in his thoughts. The worn leather satchel slung across his shoulder jingled with each scraping step as it hit his pant leg. It seemed heavy and a bit conspicuous for that very reason.

He was passing from the light of one streetlamp to the next when the shadows moved swiftly towards him.

He was thrown against the iron wrought fence of a home. Last thing he felt was rain and a clenched fist at the side of his head.

* * *

"… inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei …"

There was a metallic taste against his tongue and he grimaced while opening his eyes against his headache. Without his glasses, he could see nothing and the fact that the dilapidated basement he suddenly found himself in had but one yellow bulb didn't help him make out much more than odd, blurry shapes. He picked his heavy head up.

He heard a quiet tsk. "It won't work." That was followed by a fierce thunk that caused him to jolt upright. Upon doing so, he realized that he was tied to a wooden chair. He looked down at his hands in disbelief. Rope immobilized his arms at the wrist. There was friction against his ankles as well. No wonder he couldn't feel anything past his waist. He must have been tied up for quite a while now.

He looked up again. "What-?" His voice was rough. Dry. He swallowed to wet his parched throat and squinted.

He saw two men standing just outside the faint glow from the bulb.

"You're right," a second and warier voice muttered. A quiet sigh. "So what? We tried everything, didn't we?"

"Not everything…"

He started struggling against the bindings as adrenaline started to rush into his numb limbs. These men... He knew these men. He knew what these men were capable of. He knew he wouldn't make it out of this basement alive. He tried to clench his fists, but there was no circulation past his wrists. The chair rocked and rattled on the floor as he tried to loosen the ropes, but it was to no avail. He only managed to wind himself.

"Hmm…" There was some shuffling between the two men as they pulled away further. They seemed to be more cautious now as their postures stiffened noticeable and their words were hushed. "Cas would have said something, right?"

"That ass isn't here right now and this is our best shot."

One more moment of silent discussion later, they turned to their captive.

Taking a careful and casual step forward into the light, the shorter of the two folded his arms against his chest while tipping his head down slightly. "Do you know who we are?" His dark eyes didn't waver and neither did his voice. He knew who was in charge and he meant to keep it that way.

He was met with no answer, however.

He glanced back at his lankier counterpart behind him while arching a brow. He had been expecting some reaction, at the very least a quiet glower. Instead his captive had his chin pressed to his chest and eyes clenched shut. "Is he, like, recharging or something?"

"Beats me."

"We should get to it then, huh? This has gotten way out of hand already." He reached inside his brown leather jacket and pulled out his pistol. He handled it with ease, switching his grip in a flash so he could bring the butt of the gun down on the tied man. He smiled drily at the satisfying thud and grunt. "Oi, look up here." He nudged the captive's chin up using the tip of the Colt. "You know who we are? Hmm?"

The bruised man blinked blearily.

"What do you know?"

He shook his head.

"Lying would be a lot easier if you talked."

He clenched his jaw once.

The man with the gun shook his head and sighed. "Your loss." He then gestured behind him absently. "That's Sam. And I'm Dean. But you already knew that." He tapped his foot on the dusty floor. "Why have you been tailing us for the past month?"

There was silence.

Dean kicked the chair without warning, startling his captive. "I said lying would be _lot_ easier if you started talking, buddy." He then walked off to the side to drag over a stool into the light. He sat down, hooking a heel on the rung and resting his elbow on his knee so his gun hung from his hand very evidently, ready to twitch at the slightest provocation. "Got _all_ day." He examined the barrel of his pistol, the gleam catching his eye. "What are you, anyway?"

Sam watched the captured man with keen interest. He and his brother had tried almost every trick in the book, from holy water to salt to silver blade and iron, and even holy oil. Nothing had worked. There was no demon in this man. He had gotten knocked out in one punch. He wasn't responding with anger or condescendence as most creatures they had run into seemed to. He was almost…

… human.

"What are you doing?"

"Ah!" Sam darted away from Castiel while grappling at his chest in fright. "Seriously?!"

Castiel pondered the strange scene in front of him without acknowledging the exclamation. "Dean?" He tilted his head. "What are you doing?" He flicked his pale eyes at the gawking man in the chair.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean grumbled as he pushed up off the stool and strode up to the angel. "You have no idea what kind of crap we've been dealing with."

"What are you doing with that man?" Castiel brushed him aside and pointed at the captive plainly. "What's he done?"

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed Castiel by the arm to drag him away for a private conversation. Sam wandered after them, occasionally glancing at the squinting man who seemed to be trying to eavesdrop without hiding his intention. Dean was talking a mile a minute, filling Castiel in on the strange stuff following them around the past four weeks. "One second he's there and the next, poof, he's gone," he whispers rapidly. "You're the only guy I know who does that, so that's freaky, isn't it? And he's been tailin' us, thinking he's gotten the last laugh. Well, he had another thing coming. He's not an angel, is he?"

Castiel blinked blankly at them.

"Good, good." Dean frowned at his brother. "I'm starting to like your idea more and more."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, me too." He scratched his neck nervously. "I think he's human, Cas."

"Well, of course he's human…"

The Winchester brothers narrowed their eyes in unison. "Of course?" they echoed.

"That's Harry Potter."

"… Okay…"

"You've tied up Harry Potter." Castiel shook his head in reproach.

Harry scrambled up to his feet as soon as the bindings around his ankles and wrists vanished without a trace. But his numb legs didn't hold him up for long and he ended up stumbling forward before crashing down on all fours. At least the terror was subsiding now. He carefully steadied his frantic breathing and closed his eyes to organize his thoughts.

"Who the hell is Harry Potter?" Dean scowled. Castiel pushed him out of the way instead of answering him. "Great." He threw his hands up in the air in defeat. "That's just great."

Sudden clarity sharpened Harry's mind. He shot backwards by kicking his legs out in front of him. In one fluid motion he had his wand out and a silent hex hurling from it.

Castiel was thrown back by the red flare. He went crashing into the wall without so much as a surprised yelp.

"Whoa! Shit!" Dean whipped his gun at Harry just as a hex hit Sam on the chest, sending him crumpling to the floor.

The gunshot was deafening in the congested basement.

An errant curse whizzed past Dean's ear, faltering before it could hit the ceiling and then dying out in the air.

Harry looked down in shock. A dark spot was spreading at his stomach.

Before he could tighten his grip on his wand, it was swiped away.

With a shaky swear, he scrabbled back as best he could, considering the searing pain he was in, until his back bumped into the wall. He cast a wandless Shielding charm around himself, knowing that it wouldn't hold for long but trying not to think about that. He pressed a hand to his stomach to staunch the blood.

"That was a little unexpected," Castiel murmured to himself as he brushed his hand across the translucent blue glow surrounding the wounded Auror. In his other hand was the wand held inexpertly. His dark hair was dirtied with dust and cobwebs and his clothes were disheveled after coming into contact with a forgotten corner of the basement. "We won't hurt you, Harry," he insisted gently.

Sam groaned when he came to, much to Dean's relief. "What happened?" he slurred as he was helped up by his older brother. "That sucked."

"No kidding!" Dean exclaimed in near hysterics. "I thought you were a goner." He quickly checked Sam over to make sure he wasn't hurt.

"Whoa…" Sam stepped back when he saw Castiel and Harry. "You _shot_ him?"

"He got you both! I didn't know what to do! I panicked, alright?"

Harry grimaced when he felt his body flashing cold. He was losing too much blood. His wand… He gritted his teeth.

"Harry," Castiel tried again.

"No," he exhaled. "No way."

"You need to go to the hospital."

He squeezed his eyes shut and struggled to breathe.

Sam walked up beside Castiel in awe, resting his hand on the warm blue shield as well. "Is he doing this?"

"Yes," Castiel mumbled.

"What is it?" Dean leaned against it heavily.

"Shit," Harry gasped as his magic broke under the weight.

Dean staggered forward and bonked his head on the wall before he could catch himself. "Ow."

Harry ducked his head when he felt a soft touch on his hair. And then there was a warm glow spreading down him. He pulled his hand away from his stomach. There was no wound, despite all the bloodied evidence to prove otherwise. He looked up in bewilderment at the man in the brown trench coat. "How did you…?"

Castiel had a few questions of his own as well. "Aren't you the Master of Death?"

"The what?" Sam wanted to know. He too knelt down to hear. "Master of Death?"

"I don't want to test out the theory," Harry said warily. They weren't going to kill him? At least not yet, it seemed. He needed to buy some time. "Who are you?" He tried to remember seeing the strange face before him. He couldn't.

"I am Castiel."

"Alright, hold up." Dean was a bit miffed that his plan had gone so awry. "What is going on here? Who is this guy? You know him, Cas?"

"Not personally." Castiel shook his head. "But I do know of him." He then gestured at the Winchester boys behind him. "Why have you been following them? They don't like being followed."

"They've been terrorizing half the country…"

Sam and Dean sheepishly glanced at each other. "Oh…"


	2. Chapter 2

"Hunters?!"

Castiel stood between the two bickering parties as a mediator. "It's an _honest_ mistake."

"_Illegal_!" Harry exclaimed while washing his own blood off of his hands. "It's _illegal_!"

"Illegal?" Sam blurted out. "We're trying to save people from these-"

"These creatures have rights!"

Dean wanted to ram into the wall at full speed just so he could wake up from whatever nightmare he was trapped in. "I'm in the Twilight Zone," he realized. That was the only explanation.

Harry twisted the rusty faucet shut and turned around to meet the Winchester brothers. "You two are under arrest," he snapped authoritatively.

"Now," Castiel held up a finger, "there is no need for-"

"Arrest?!" Dean barked. "For _what_? We stopped those things from-"

"For shooting me."

He snapped his teeth together and blinked once. "Wow…" He looked at Sam. "Did he just say that?"

"Yeah…" Sam frowned. "He did."

Harry wanted to throw a tantrum. He had had a harrowing night and nothing seemed to be going his way, least of all his 'talk' with these men. He had been tortured and almost fatally wounded, and common courtesy would dictate that they listen to him without interrupting every five damned words.

"None of you are thinking straight at the moment," Castiel pointed out sagely. "Perhaps it is time to simply… hmm… breathe?" He demonstrated with a deep inhale and a slow exhale. "I've heard that helps."

Sam and Dean were quite close to strangling him by then.

Harry took his advice though. He closed his eyes and reined his temper in. Rationality was very important here, especially in a matter as sensitive as this.

Hunters.

He looked down at his bloodied shirt.

Obviously things weren't as they appeared…

"You two are hunters."

Dean grunted in exasperation and Sam said, "Yeah."

Harry nodded slowly. "You're hunting vampires and werewolves."

"Yeah."

"Because…?"

"Uh, because those things are _killing_ people?" Dean scoffed. "What other reason do you want?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Do you go around hunting _people_ who kill people too?" Sam and Dean pulled faces at him. "See the flaw in your logic?"

"No," Sam insisted. "We don't. I mean, if there was a way to stop them, to cure them, we would have tried it. But there isn't a way. They are going to keep hurting people and they need to be stopped."

"Why are _you_ stopping them?"

"No one else is…"

Harry sighed while rubbing his chaffed wrists. What a mess… "You two are coming with me."

"Where?"

"San Francisco."

"Why? Are you arresting us?"

"Something like that."

Sam arched an unimpressed brow. "You aren't even shot. You can't just arrest us like that."

"How does an arrest for kidnapping and torture sound?" Harry drawled.

Dean had had enough. "We aren't going anywhere." He planted himself firmly with his arms folded at his chest.

Harry clenched his jaw. "It is _not_ a request. Before you two botch things up even _more_ royally for all of us, I suggest you wise up and understand that you are not above the law." He pulled himself up to his full height. "There will be no more hunting of vampires and werewolves, and you two are coming to the West Coast headquarters with me on tomorrow's flight. No negotiation."

"I'd like to see you try."

* * *

"You've got this." Sam patted Dean's shoulder from behind as they squeezed down the aisle of the small domestic airplane that was already starting to smell like sweat and perfume. "Besides, this is probably a cakewalk compared to what's waiting for us on the other end."

"Shut up." Dean slid into the window seat grumpily and slumped down, resting an elbow on the armrest and massaging his aching head with his cold fingers. Three hours. Three hours on this tin can that had no business flying. He couldn't believe he had been forced into this. But after the mess in that basement, everything had gone spiraling out of control.

"Nope." He exhaled and struggled to stand up in the narrow confines of row 17. "Can't do this, Sammy."

He froze when he found himself nose-to-nose with Harry instead.

His eyes darted over the Auror's shoulder.

Sam smiled sweetly and waved from across the aisle.

"Son of a bitch…"

Harry kept his amusement down. "Hmm." He nodded once at Dean to sit. There was almost a reluctant whine before the Winchester shuffled back and fell into his seat once again. Harry sat down on the adjacent seat without further comment.

Ten minutes into the flight, he realized why Dean had been making a quiet fuss ever since they got to the airport.

"Nervous flyer?"

"Shut up." The plane was taxiing down the runway and he would need all his wits about him if he wanted to make it through the takeoff without a scene. Having Potter next to him was no help. He tightened his arms around his stomach and stared firmly at his crossed feet that pressed against the footrest as though they were brake pedals.

"You don't have the most flattering disposition," Harry muttered under his breath as he flipped through the in-flight magazine. "Has anyone told you that?"

Dean gritted his teeth. What did disposition have to do with anything?

He bit back a groan when the plane jolted once. If he was going to throw up, he would be more than happy to do it all over Potter.

An hour later, he had downed two shots of whiskey, wishing he had a third. He had kept to himself and stubbornly ignored everything else that was happening. He had already read the safety manual. Twice. It was absolutely no help. Why did the cartoon lady look so happy about the plane going down on the water? Ridiculous. He had slid the little plastic shutter over the window so that he wouldn't have to look out at the wing. Headphones were two bucks. No way in hell he was paying that for phony rip-offs.

There was a low rumble.

Then a quiet ping.

"Ladies and gentlemen, that captain has requested that you fasten your seatbelts as we are expecting some turbulence. Thank you."

Dean squeezed his eyes shut.

"Listen."

He pretended not to have heard Harry beside him.

Harry studied the pale man for a few moments before continuing on. "Nothing's going to happen…" He was met with strained silence. That didn't deter him. He was starting to learn that Dean was a man of few curt words. "It would be rather disappointing if I can't show up to the office with the man who shot me, wouldn't it?"

"Sure. Laugh it up," Dean growled.

Harry did just that, chuckling to himself as he watched the Winchester brother strangle both armrests with white knuckles and breathe through pursed lips as the plane rattled and shook. He supposed he couldn't be one to judge. He didn't have such a phobia. He had seen Ron do this around spiders. It gets a bit silly eventually. He patted Dean's arm absently and mumbled, "If the plane goes down, I'll magic us out of here. You and Sam. Alright?"

Dean didn't say anything, but the tightness in his chest was slowly lessening. Great. His heart had finally given out. Just what he needed.

Actually, he'd rather _that_ happen than admit that Harry seemed like a pretty decent guy.

For a wizard, that is.


	3. Chapter 3

"Well… Guess he _is_ a big deal," Sam murmured as he fidgeted in the uncomfortable wooden chair he had been made to sit in. He was talking about Harry who was rapidly conversing with three men in black robes, all of whom were listening without interruption with solemn expressions on their faces, while signing a file that had been handed to him by a young and nervous peon. Afterwards, he took the grey robe that she handed him and slipped it on, never once stopping his conversation. There was organized chaos around him, men and women flitting about with notepads and quills waving as well as paper planes hovering just about his head, waiting for his attention. "Huh."

Dean was gawking open-mouthed at the moving portraits, hobbling goblins, and zooming owls flying overhead with letters attached to their legs. "This cannot be happening…" He dropped his gaze to his brother. "Are you seeing this?" He pointed upwards. "Or did I finally crack?"

"No, no. I'm seeing it too," Sam mumbled distantly.

"Why aren't you freaking out?"

He shrugged.

An hour of waiting around in the lobby was followed by another hour waiting around in a small room that was lined with windows on one wall and had a conference table. Sam and Dean sat facing the door, turning their back to the view. They could appreciate that _later_. They were growing more and more restless as they were detained without much information.

"You know what pisses me off?" Dean suddenly snapped.

Sam sighed and didn't stop tracing a scratch he had found on the table.

"That we're being treated like criminals for keeping people alive."

"Hmm."

"Look, we're about to be interrogated. Just wait 'til they spin this off into some bullshit werewolf rights violation thing." Dean harrumphed.

"They do have a point," Sam said delicately.

"Oh, don't you start."

He wasn't finished, so he treaded along with light words. "We've _met_ werewolves and vampires with a conscience. Up until now we haven't found a way to cure them or to stop them, so we've been killing them. But what if there was a way?" He rested a calming hand on his brother's shoulder. "Give it a chance."

"Yeah, yeah." Dean rolled his eyes. Sam had always had a soft spot for these monsters.

The door opened and Harry walked in alone, a single file in hand. He shut the door behind him before taking a seat opposite the Winchester brothers. "Sorry for the wait." He was met a quiet grumble from Dean and a nod from Sam. "So let's just get started, shall we?" He opened the file and took out two small pamphlets. He slid it towards them. "Glance through that."

Sam and Dean read the title on the thin piece of parchment. **Living with Lycanthropy**. Sam arched a brow while pulling the pamphlet closer and opening it. Dean simply scowled at it, attempting to will it to disappear. In the meantime, Harry was shuffling through other documents in the file and putting them into thin ordered piles between them. There were some grainy photographs, a few handwritten reports as well as some papers that looked like medical charts. Dean watched the Auror carefully, examining his every move.

"Huh." Sam turned to the back of the pamphlet, sweeping his eyes over it, before looking up at Harry. "We had no idea."

"No idea about what?" Dean snatched the folded parchment from his brother's hand and scanned the words.

As he did so, Harry started speaking. "These creatures aren't birthed. They are created. Once a person is bit, the poison is circulated into system and, as of yet, there is no cure." He gestured at the pamphlets. "But there are ways to suppress the effect."

Dean frowned. "Says here you have to drink a potion. What's that about?"

"Wolfsbane Potion. It is a very complex medicine that, when taken by a werewolf, eases the transformation." Harry leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, tenting his fingers absently. "You see, the reason werewolves are dangerous is because they lose their human conscience when they turn. The animalistic thoughts invade and cause them to prey and feed on anything near them. But if this potion is taken every month, their human conscience stays intact even after they transform."

"You haven't come up with something to stop the transformation?" Sam guessed. "Like, nothing that will stop the physical changes."

Harry shook his head. Then he pushed forward the papers in the first pile. "These are testimonies from werewolves." Sam took the parchment on top. "It is painful and psychologically damaging. Werewolves have been ostracized for many years by society. They have had to go into hiding, careful not to reveal their identities because of fear of retribution."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "So let me get this straight." He put the pamphlet down. "You folks are feeding them this potion? Are you rounding them up and giving them medicine?"

Harry didn't care for the crass image that brought up. "Um, it's an opportunity for them to improve their quality of life." He gestured behind him vaguely. "There are support centers that offer counseling, subsidies for the cost of the potion, job opportunities in the government, things like that…"

Sam was cringing at the graphic words he was reading. "How many werewolves are there?" he asked after swallowing.

"Hard to say." Harry didn't meet their eye. "First few months after being bitten are often disastrous and very distressing. We are attempting to stop the spread with education. But… it's hard to say."

"And what do you do when they kill people? Or infect people?"

"They are brought to trial."

Dean leaned back in his seat. "So what you're saying is that you don't want us hunting werewolves unless we are sure they've hurt someone."

"No!" Harry was appalled by the casual remark. "No hunting! Period! Leave it to law enforcement."

"If you guys weren't doing such a piss poor job…" Dean muttered under his breath.

"So… what?" Sam was confused. "You want us to call you or something when we run into them?"

Harry exhaled. "Yes." He was glad that at least one of them had more than half a brain. "Please. Contact the authorities. That is all I need you to do. No more reckless chasing and shooting. You could get killed."

Dean snorted in derision. "Oh, we've handled worse, believe me."

The three of them were in there for the better part of an hour. Harry was thoroughly exhausted by the end of it. After answering all their questions, he was glad to get out of the room and let the record keepers take statements from the men. He grabbed himself a cup of coffee before making his way to his makeshift office on the fourth floor. Unlike the British Ministry of Magic, the West Coast Ministry was built upwards, letting in plenty of natural light while still hiding in plain site as just another skyscraper in the downtown scene. He shuffled past the star struck American Aurors while irritably swatting at the interdepartmental memos that kept rustling against his head. Those could be dealt with in a little while. Right now he had to finish up his paperwork.

He opened the door to the office, only to pause with a foot past the threshold when he saw Castiel examining a Sneakoscope. He was sure he had locked the room. "Er, hello," he hesitated.

Castiel glanced up. "Hello." He set the Sneakoscope down.

Harry waited for him to say something more. But Castiel seemed content simply standing there in silence. Feeling a little awkward, Harry stepped in without commenting on the intrusion. "I didn't know you would be stopping by." He edged towards his table to set his coffee down. "Can I help you?"

"No, no. I'm fine."

Harry waited again. But Castiel made no effort to continue the conversation. "Alright then…" the Auror mumbled. "Um, so… you can teleport, huh?"

"Yes."

"That's… cool."

Castiel pointed at the Sneakoscope. "What is that?"

Harry smiled at the question. "It's something that helps me detect objects or creatures of Dark Magic. It works with proximity." He picked up the heavy metal sphere. "It makes noise and spins around. Not very discrete, but it's handy. It's called a Sneakoscope."

"Hmm."

"What are you doing with the Winchesters?" he asked the question that had been burning in his mind for the past eighteen hours. "It isn't often that angels help out humans, is it?"

"Very rare."

"There's just something about them?"

Castiel nodded. "There's certainly something about them."

Harry leaned against the edge of the table, eyeing the man in the trench coat. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Yes."

"You don't look like an angel."

Castiel cocked his head slightly in mild surprise before looking down at himself. "Hmm. This is a human form. I look… different."

"Wings and all?"

"Nothing a human can perceive." He smoothed his tie. "You don't look much like your reputation either."

Harry shrugged. "My reputation precedes me. It also often gets away from me." He was used to it.

"Your battle has been very fascinating," Castiel added. "You've proven yourself to be worthy time and time again."

"… Thank you."

"Why are you so concerned about half-creatures?"

Harry didn't respond for a moment, scuffing his shoe against the carpet instead as he mulled over the question. The answer was simple enough. But he was curious as to why Castiel had asked him that. "Why _aren't_ you concerned?" he asked in turn after a beat. He lifted his sharp eyes to study the angel. "Shouldn't you be concerned about all living beings?"

Castiel nodded slowly. "Yes, but… some creatures are easier to be concerned about that others," he explained.

"I see. Some are more appealing than others. Is that what you mean?"

"Yes."

"If that's the case, I suppose werewolves are appealing to me."

Castiel stopped fiddling with the little knick-knacks on the table. "How so?" He was intrigued as well.

"My father's best friend was a werewolf."

"Oh…"

Harry reached back to grab his coffee that was now warm enough to drink. After taking a bitter sip, he continued on. "I had never met a werewolf before that. I was in school and he was my teacher. In books, all you read about are scientific facts and symptoms of being bitten. I had read about werewolf attacks. But I had never met a werewolf before." He smiled as he recalled his first encounter with Remus. Definitely didn't strike him as a werewolf then. "I didn't know he was a werewolf. He was just my dad's friend at first. And then I learned of his true nature. I saw him change. I saw him lose control. But he was a kind man. Brave, loyal until the end… It didn't matter that he was a werewolf. It never mattered to my father and it doesn't matter to me." He sighed unconsciously. "He died. A long time ago, he died. He has a son. Teddy. I'm his godfather. I don't want him growing up thinking his dad was a monster."

There was silence in the room afterwards as the hesitant words sank in.

When the silence lingered for a few seconds too long, Harry glanced up from his coffee to find Castiel staring at him. "What?" he asked.

"Your stories are fascinating."

* * *

When the Winchester brothers were finally done with their interviews, it was past one and they were starving. Dean cracked his back and stretched his arms above him with a tired yawn. "I could use some fries."

"Hey, wanna see if they have a cafeteria?" Sam asked excitedly.

"Nope."

"Come on. It'd be cool. I bet they have really weird things. Like newt tails."

"Ugh." Dean gagged at the thought. "I just want a burger, man. No tails, no toe nails. Just some good ol' fashioned cardiac arrests." He opened the door.

But paused instead of stepping out into the corridor.

He spied Potter sitting on one of the metal benches, which wasn't a big deal. However, Castiel was sitting next to him, gravely nodding. Now _that_ was weird. Since when did Cas listen to random people?

"What?" Sam asked in confusion. He poked his head out the room to see what his brother was looking at.

Harry set his empty coffee cup on the floor beside his feet. "All I'm saying is that there is a possibility of finding some good, even in bad people." He firmly believed that. "It wouldn't be a fair world without second chances. I mean, I've made mistakes. I've said things, done things that I shouldn't have. But I've had opportunities to make things better as well. And maybe that cancels out." Even though he said that, he didn't look too confident. He waited for Castiel to confirm his belief.

"Can I see your scar?"

He was taken aback. "Um…" That was quite the change of topic.

"The one that Voldemort gave you."

For a second, he wanted to say no. Then he thought that it wasn't everyday he ran into an angel. "Uh, okay." He brushed his hair aside to the reveal the most famous mark on his body.

Castiel studied the scar with quick, flitting eyes. "The scar that sealed a destiny," he mumbled to himself. He traced the lightning with a finger. "Terrible."

"Dark Magic always leaves a mark," Harry explained as he ruffled his hair back in place. "Terrible…"

"And incredible."

He frowned. "Pardon?"

Castiel clasped his hands on his lap and said, "I think you are incredible."

"Oh."

Sam gasped in sudden realization and whipped around. "Dean, you don't think Cas is-"

The door swung open hard enough to smack against the wall, startling Harry and mildly irritating Castiel.

Dean stomped out of the room, closely followed by his bewildered brother. "What are you hanging around here for?" he snapped at the angel. "Shouldn't you be doing heavenly stuff? Fighting demons or something?"

Before Castiel could respond in his usual eloquent and frank way, a young woman hurried towards them, calling for the Head Auror. "No rest for the weary," Harry murmured with a wan smile as he got up to his tired feet. "Just give me a moment." He excused himself from their company and followed the woman down the corridor.

Dean was quick to plop down on the newly vacated spot and scowl at Castiel. "Why are you fraternizing with the enemy?" he muttered.

"The enemy?" Castiel didn't follow. "I have done no such thing. I have been here the whole time. Ask Mr. Potter."

Sam rolled his eyes. "He means Mr. Potter."

"Ah, Mr. Potter is not the enemy. He says all of us are on the same side."

Dean was having none of that. "Look, I see that your little man-crush is clouding your judgment and loyalty, but _seriously_? You should be standing up for _me_!" He was getting really pissed off by the nonchalance in the angel's actions recently. "Bros before hoes, Cas."

"What does that mean?" Castiel pursed his lips in puzzlement. "Hoes? I know nothing of hoes or bros."


	4. Chapter 4

"Huh. This is a little disappointing," Sam murmured as he squinted at the menu placard behind the food service counter in the cafeteria. It was all normal food in some capacity. Sandwiches, pastas, salads, soups…

Dean was more than okay with that.

"I'll get the cheeseburger," he ordered happily, "with fries and a Coke. Actually, make that two fries."

After Harry had picked his pasta, he glanced back at Castiel who was studying a glass bottle of fizzy green soda closely. He even put his ear to the glass to hear the faint buzzing. Harry caught his attention eventually and asked, "Don't you want anything?" Then he paused. "Um, do you have to eat?"

"I'll have what Dean's having," Castiel said absentmindedly while rolling the bottle between his hands.

Then he shook it hard.

"No! Don't-"

The cap blew off the top and green soda shot out with a sharp whistle, raining over everyone in close proximity.

Harry snatched the bottle from Castiel and flipped it upside down. Strangely enough, the remaining soda stayed put instead of pouring onto the floor. He carefully set it on the counter mouth down.

Dean was the first one to start cackling upon seeing Castiel's dismayed expression and sticky hair. Sam was too busy apologizing to the Ministry workers who had gotten sprayed. A few passers-by chuckled at the commotion as they sidestepped the disaster area to pay for their meals. One of the attendants rolled his eyes before flicking his wand in a short pattern to clean the mess off the floor and walls.

Harry tried to hide his smile, wiping soda off of his robe. "It's a little temperamental," he warned a little too late. He pulled his wand out to dry himself off. "Let's not touch anything else," he added as he tugged Castiel away from the soda display. He touched the tip of the wand to the angel's head and clothes. He figured he should keep an eye on this one.

"Sorry," Castiel mumbled.

A few minutes later the four of them found a relatively quiet table in the mess hall and sat down for lunch – Sam and Dean on one side and Harry and Castiel on the other. There were a few lingering stares, both for the British Head Auror as well as for the man who had sprayed everyone with soda, but those went unnoticed as the men tucked into the warm food gratefully. All of them had had a trying day.

Dean sighed and raised his eyes upwards to thank heavens for this food. "Man, it's been too long."

Sam scoffed. "He doesn't want to live past fifty," he told Harry.

"Yup." The older Winchester saw no shame in admitting this fact. "No point, I say. Live while you're young. You get me?"

Harry nodded to appease him. "You two get around, don't you?" He had noticed as much after chasing them through five states in a matter of twenty-five days. "Doesn't it get tiring? Living in motels, eating diner food… Same company for weeks on end?"

"Oh, I wouldn't call it boring, by any means," Sam said. "Tedious, sure. But it needs to be done. People need all the help they can get."

"And who helps _you_?"

"Cas."

Castiel froze mid bite and looked up from his burger at Sam. "What?"

Dean shook his head in defeat. "He can be downright scary," he wanted Harry to know. "I know it's hard to imagine."

"How did he end up with you two?"

"Long story…"

Lunch was fairly uninteresting compared to how it had began. Castiel still hung onto every word out of Harry's mouth, Dean stuffed his mouth with the delicious burger, and Sam studied all the strange people around him happily. If someone had told him that he'd be sitting amongst witches, wizards, goblins, ghosts, and owls, he would have given them a very strange look and backed away slowly. But here he was. There was yet another world unknown to him that has always been under his nose. It was also nice to know that these people had his back. He couldn't wait to learn more about magic.

Dean nudged his younger brother on the ribs and then flicked his eyes to the side. "Look at that bombshell."

Sam snuck a glance at the pale redhead in a purple dress and blue sneakers before snorting, "She's definitely not your type."

Dean took offence to that. "What? Any woman that good looking is my type. Come on."

Sam sat up a bit. "Actually, I think she's coming this way…"

"Hard to resist my charm," Dean bragged. "Watch and learn, Sammy."

"Don't call me Sammy."

"Sh." He put on his most charming smile as the woman approached the table.

She didn't spare him one glance.

"And that's how it works, you see?" Harry continued to explain to Castiel, oblivious to the sudden tension around him. "It's one of those novelty drinks that-"

The woman landed a backhanded slap over his ear.

"Ow!" He ducked, cupped the side of his head and spun around in his seat. "What the-" His eyes widened in shock when he recognized the seething face before him. "Uh…" He scrambled up to his feet, his hand slipping off the edge of the table more than once. "I can explain."

She took a menacing step forward, prompting him to sink back into the chair with a flustered mumble.

Dean and Sam looked at each other with surprised smiles on their faces. This was the first time they had seen the Head Auror look so terrified.

"What… _exactly_… did you hear?" he asked very slowly.

"What _exactly_ can you explain?" Her voice was soft and clear.

"Er…"

"I was having a perfectly fine dinner with everyone and then I get an owl in the middle of dessert." She crosses her arms against her chest. "Guess what it said? Can you guess?"

He cringed. "Um… That… um…"

"That you've been _shot_?"

"Yeah, that…"

She gritted her teeth and her nostrils flared menacingly. "Why aren't you bleeding out right now?"

"B-because I'm all better," he rushed. "See?" He patted his stomach. "I don't even know who sent you that letter because _I_ sure-"

"You weren't going to let me know?"

"N-no, of _course_ I'd tell you. Just… not right now." He struggled up to his feet again. "You know what? Let's talk somewhere else." He grabbed her elbow and tried to drag her away.

However, she wasn't done. She jerked out of his grip and turned her furious glare at the rest of the table. "Did any of you know that he was shot?"

Sam, Dean and Castiel tried not to look too guilty while Harry waved at them to keep their mouths shut. Their strained silence was enough of an answer for her.

Things weren't looking too good for the Auror.

"So everyone knew before me, huh?" She set her jaw in an expression of grim determination before grabbing a chair and sitting down right at the table. "We aren't going anywhere. You can explain _right_ here."

"Come on, Ginny," Harry begged. "Don't cause a scene."

"_Me_? _I'm_ causing the scene?!" She held his hand tight between hers. "I haven't heard from you in over a week, haven't seen you in a month, and the first piece of news I get is about you getting hurt, Harry… I'm allowed to cause a scene, okay?"

Realizing that there was no way out of this, Harry slumped back in his chair and sighed. "I'm sorry." He looked her in the eye. "I'm really sorry."

Ginny tsked once. "I know." She wound her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I'm so glad you're alright…"

"Mhm."

As the situation diffused gradually, everyone at and around their table started to relax and continue on with their lunch. While Harry and Ginny spoke in quiet voices, Dean nudged Sam again and whispered, "Girlfriend?" Sam shrugged. He didn't feel as comfortable staring at his brother did. Dean scrutinized the couple. He saw no shame in careful observation. She was a little out of Potter's league, to be honest. She was a beautiful woman and Harry came off as a bit of a dork, especially next to her forcefulness. Her lips were drawn into a thin line from worry, but she was listening patiently to the other side of the story. Girlfriend... His gaze honed in on the woman's left hand.

"She's your _wife_?!"

Harry and Ginny looked up in surprise, their private conversation dying out.

Sam laughed nervously. "Sorry about him." He kicked his brother under the table.

Ginny cleared her throat and managed a wry smile. "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Ginny."

"Uh, I'm Sam. That's Dean and Castiel."

"Oh." Harry looked over his shoulder at the angel. "Actually, he's the one you should thank for healing me."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?" She tilted her head at Castiel. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble."

"No trouble at all." Castiel dunked some fries in ketchup. "If Dean hadn't shot him, I wouldn't-"

"Ah!" Dean and Harry interjected loudly. Sam didn't even bother, simply pressing a hand to his eyes in defeat instead.

"Wait." Ginny looked at the frozen men. "What?"

"I said if Dean hadn't sh-"

"Cas!"

He frowned at Dean for interrupting him a second time. "What?" Dean tried to convey his thoughts through one scathing look. Turns out a few years together had taught Castiel something after all, because then he asked, "Was I not supposed to say that?"

Ginny was bewildered. "I'm sorry," she mumbled as she sat forward and clasped her hands atop the table, staring at Dean. "_You_ were the one who shot him?"

He shifted in his seat. "Um, well, you see… I thought he had hurt Sam and Cas and it was just reflex, really… I mean, it just happened, you see?"

"You mean you just happened to have a gun on you?"

"Self-defense…"

She exhaled loudly. "Are they Muggles, Harry?" she asked without looking at him.

"Hmm, yes." He was too tired to argue or reason. He pushed the cold pasta around on his plate with his fork, appearing resigned.

Things were already beyond his control.

Merlin help Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

"That angel guy's been staring at you," Ginny muttered out of the corner of her mouth at her husband. "What's up with that?"

Harry looked up from his notes absently, not at all fazed when he caught Castiel looking his way from his perch on a wooden chair. "I don't know," he mumbled. "He stares at everyone." He turned to Ginny. "Sure you can't stay another day?" He smiled hopefully at her.

"I'm sure," she sighed as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "I miss you."

He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "Miss you too."

In the meantime, the Winchester brothers were gathering their identification badges from the lobby for their future visits to the Ministry. Castiel was waiting patiently for them, hands folded on his lap and his wide eyes searching the busy and ornately decorated entrance. Lunch had lasted over an hour, thanks to fumbling explanations on Dean's part and terse questioning on Ginny's part. Harry had finally taken pity on them and released them for the day. Besides, his mind was elsewhere now that Ginny was next to him. Unfortunately she had to leave now that she had ensured his well-being. Castiel watched the two of them from afar, listening to their whispered words without their knowledge and examining their interactions.

At the front desk, Sam was nodding in approval at the first legitimate badge he had gotten a hold of in ages. It had a picture and everything. "Cool, huh?" He held the badge up to his chest. "Official."

"You do realize that this makes us ever more recognizable to these guys, right?" Dean scoffed. "Photos suck." He stuffed the tag into his pocket. "We should get one for Cas. Get him started on his collection."

Sam rolled his eyes instead of responding and walked over to the waiting area, stopping in front of Castiel. "So? What do you think?"

"Of what?" Castiel looked up blankly.

"About this whole thing. About what Harry said."

He shrugged. "It does not matter what I think." He stood up. "It only matters what you think."

"I think it's baloney," Dean groused.

"Yeah, we know…" Sam was done trying to talk some sense into his brother for the time being. There was always tomorrow. "Shall we get going?" He glanced over his shoulder, pausing when he saw Harry and Ginny doing their lovebird deal. "Uh… or we could wait a bit."

"No. We can go," Castiel decided. He tried to brush past Sam.

"That wasn't a suggestion." Sam stopped him and made him sit down. "Let's wait a bit." He sat beside the angel. Dean took the seat on the other side. "What do you guys think of them?"

"Like I said, she's way out of his league," Dean maintained. He was a little jealous that Potter had managed to land a babe like her. "Sure, he's a big deal. But _really_?"

"Do you know their story, Cas?" Sam wondered.

"Hmm."

"…"

"…"

"Well?"

"Ah, you want me to tell you…" Castiel understood. "They know each other from magic school and they have been married for four years."

"Please, don't spare the details," Sam drawled sarcastically.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Sam."

"You watched him from heaven?" Dean interjected. "Like, did all of you sit around and watch him grow up?"

"Something like that."

"Is he a favorite?"

Castiel pondered that a bit. "Favorite?" He shook his head after a beat. "I don't know. His life is important. Very important. Just as your life is important, Dean. And your life is important, Sam." He looked at them both. "I think after interacting with people, I see that all life is important. But in heaven, some lives are more expendable than others." He seemed sorry to say this now. "Harry's life had more value in our eyes, so we watched him. He needed to succeed in order to save the lives of millions. There are a handful of people like him in the world at any given point in time."

"Heck, I sure am glad someone thinks I'm important enough to protect," Dean huffed. "I'm doing a thankless job here."

"Quit whining," Sam groaned. "That's all you've been doing the past two days."

"I've got every right to whine!"

Their argument was cut short when Harry approached them with Ginny in tow. "All set?" he asked them.

"Yeah." Sam showed off his badge as all three of them got up to their feet. "Hey, are you sure Castiel won't need one?"

Harry smiled at a private joke. "I'm quite certain he can't be stopped from getting in here, unfortunately. Badge or not." He would have to chat with some people about that breach as soon as possible. "In any case, it's been… interesting." He decided to put it mildly. The brothers had endured enough abuse for a day. "I will see you two tomorrow." He shook hands with them. "Think about what we went over and, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

He then turned to Castiel. "Thanks for everything."

Castiel stepped forward and pressed a fleeting kiss on his lips. "You are welcome." He turned around to walk away at his usual slow pace.

Sam and Dean blinked out of their shock a moment later. "W-we should go." They spun on their heels and practically ran after their angel.

Harry brushed his fingers against his lips. "Huh."

"Pfft!" Ginny giggled behind her hands, her eyes wide with wonder as she stared at her bewildered husband.

Dean snagged hold of one of Castiel's sleeves and forced him forward faster. "Why the hell did you do that?" he hissed. "Idiot."

"I like him," Castiel reasoned.

"He's _married_," Sam blurted out. He grabbed Castiel's other sleeve and both of the brothers speed walked out of the lobby and onto the busy pavement. "You do _not_ kiss married men."

"Dean kisses married wom-"

"His _wife_ was standing right there! Sanctity of marriage! Shouldn't you be all for that?"

"I was not thinking of adultery," Castiel promised solemnly, prompting a volley of gags from either side of him. "I felt an emotional bond and I wanted to create a physical-"

"Oh my God, I'm gonna throw up," Dean exhaled.

"Yeah. Me too." Sam frantically flagged a taxi down. "We're getting out of here and _you_ are never coming back. That poor guy's already in deep trouble because of you."

"_I_ did not shoot him," Castiel reminded everyone unnecessarily, earning a growl from Dean.

**Fin?**

* * *

**A/N: **It got a bit silly, huh? I couldn't help it. Sorry. If any of you want to keep going with this story, feel free! First time I have attempted a fandom other than HP and even then I didn't stray far… It was fun though! Thanks for the follows, favorites and reviews. If inspiration strikes again, I'll either continue this story or start a new Supernatural fic.


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